Hope and Faith
by SibylVanestiel
Summary: Dean and Castiel's first kiss and how Dean, Sam, Bobby, and Cas deal with the fallout. Word count is so very very wrong.


Cas closes the few inches between them as he has always imagined he would one day. His lips gently press to Dean's as if he has never used them before. This kiss isn't an experiment, it isn't curiosity. It is a need. It is a hunger. It is an ache he doesn't understand.  
The moment is over too quickly and Dean and Sam are both staring at him. Dean is angry; he can see that right away. There is also shock. Sam's face goes through a series of changes from confused, to uncomfortable, and finally, to amused.  
"Uh, ok Cas, I think it is time to take a little break here." Dean takes two steps back, and holds his hands up in an effort to put something between them. Cas can see he is trying to keep calm and diffuse the outrage boiling up in him.  
"I think we should talk about this." Sam says.  
Dean shoots him a glare and yells, "Shut up, Sammy! There is nothing to talk about. Cas is just a weird little angel dude who doesn't understand things. Right?" He shoots his eyes back to the angel.  
"Actually, I see things more clearly than you do." He says.  
The elder Winchester stalks off with his shoulders knotted and his eyes to the ground. The younger one looks down at the angel with pity before Castiel removes himself from the scene.

He doesn't understand. For years Castiel has felt the friendship grow between him and Dean. If he had a soul to mate with another, Dean would be the one. This he is sure of. He knows Dean well, can see through him in a way that Sam never could. The raw soul of the hunter, stripped to nothing, had once been in his charge and that gives him a glimpse into what Dean really is. A good man who believes himself unworthy, a man who can only see his life as cursed.  
His mistake becomes suddenly clear as he wanders the eternal Tuesday of that autistic man who drowned in a bath tub. Dean cannot accept this love. He can't accept anyone's love. He does not see himself as worthy of it. Sam is the exception to the rule, and in that case it is more Dean's love and protective instincts for his little brother than it is Sam's love for Dean that reaches around his walls.  
He sees now why he has yet to see his love returned. As dishonest as it may seem, and as desperate as it is, Castiel needs to know what is happening in his absence. He flies once again to watch over the Winchesters while they hunt the monster that drew their attention to the little town in Iowa this week. He remains hidden from their sight sitting comfortably in the backseat of the Impala.  
"Dean…" Sam's big brown eyes turn to his brother with worry in them "are you ok?"  
"What? Yes! Let's just gank this thing and get the hell outta Dodge." Dean doesn't turn his attention from the road.

"I really think we should talk about..."

"No. Nothing to talk about Sam, just let it go."  
Dean turns the music up and the boys ignore each other for the rest of the drive.

Late at night the brothers return to the motel, bloody and bruised, but successful in their hunt. Exhaustion is over taking Dean and he heads to the shower before passing out in bed. Sam doesn't rest so easily however and once his brother's breathing becomes slow and steady he is out the door. Leaning against the Impala, he looks at the stars and prays.  
Castiel is already there, he has been waiting all day for one of them to invoke his name, though he wishes Dean had been the one to call him. As always, Sam's more open to talk about his feelings, and if need be, help everyone to talk about theirs. It is endearing, and Cas takes a moment to smile fondly before revealing himself to his friend.  
"Hey, Cas." A quick smile passes his lips.  
The angel can see that Sam is uncomfortable, but he nods in greeting as usual.  
"So, I, uh, just wanted to see how you are. I mean, you know, after what happened with you and Dean?" His eyebrow rises slightly as though he is worried the wrath of heaven will rain down on him just for bringing it up.  
"I don't know what you want me to say."  
"I guess, I was hoping you had a good reason. I think we both know Dean isn't good at dealing with this kind of thing." Sam motions to the angel as he finishes speaking.  
"I think you know my reasons, I think you are having as much trouble with this as Dean is." Castiel crosses his arms and conceals his presence from Sam again.  
"Castiel," Sam continues to pray, "You are a part of this family now, and no matter how awkward I might feel about it, I never meant to hurt your feelings. I have seen it. I have tried not to, but you guys have a connection and I don't know what it is yet, but I know it is there. You are good for him and you have a way of breaking down his walls, seeing something else in him, but he isn't going to let you in so easily. I guess, I just want you to know that I am ok with whatever you two work out." Sam sighs and heads in to bed. There is a long day of driving ahead of them if they want to make it to Bobby's.  
The angel watches the boys sleep, leaning against the wall of the dingy room, contemplating what he can do to repair the damage between Dean and himself.  
Dean is dreaming. His ribs ache and his nose is bloody. It's dark and there is a musty smell in the air. He sees a door and stumbles to reach it. Pain shoots through his head as he grabs the knob and turns. The sunlight is so bright he squints and covers his eyes. His ribs mend, his nose is clean and healed; his head feels fine. There is a slice of cherry pie on a picnic table waiting for him in on a fresh green lawn. His stomach growls. The pie tastes just like it should, sweet and tart, with a perfect flaky crust. He scrapes the crumbs from the plate and licks the fork clean. Lying down on the grass the sun warms his face and he relaxes. A shadow rises over him and he looks up to see Cas.  
"Hello, Dean."  
"Aw, c'mon Cas, what are you doing here? What crisis do I need to wake up for?"  
"I don't know what you mean." The angel tilts his head slightly, the way he does when he is confused.  
Dream Cas sits down next to Dean and leans over to place a gentle kiss on the hunter's lips. Dean stiffens. He goes to move away, but the angel in his dream holds tight to him.  
"You are dreaming, Dean. No one has to know anything."  
"Are you really here, though, in my dream? Is this you?" He reaches out to touch his friend.  
"No, Dean. This is all you."  
Dreamy Cas leans in again to restart the kiss and this time Dean allows it.

Dean seems to be sleeping a little restlessly, but Castiel doesn't want to push, so he stays out of the hunter's dreams. He knows how much Dean hates when he interrupts those few hours of rest the Winchesters manage to scrape by on.

Dean wakes with no memory of his dream, but wishes for an excuse to take another shower before hitting the road. Sam is already up and packing his duffel before Dean can come up with anything. He lounges in bed a few minutes more, waiting for his libido to subside.  
Castiel knows he cannot remain with Sam and Dean, spying on them. He decides to return to heaven and calm himself in the presence of his brethren. He has questions too. Has something like this ever happened before? Angels loving humans this way? What has happened to him? He was once a good solider without doubts, but now he doesn't know what or who he is. Would heaven hold any answers? Whom could he dare ask? As the Winchesters climb into their car to head for the sanctuary of Bobby's house, Castiel returns to his own sanctuary.  
"Are you gonna tell Bobby?" Sam asks.  
"Tell him what?"  
"You know, 'bout Cas, an' stuff." Sam shrugs and turns his face from his brother's to watch the passing scenery.  
"No. End of story. Can you just get over it already?"  
"You still haven't talked to him, don't you think you should let him know he's allowed to come back?" Sam throws the puppy dog eyes Dean's way.  
"He is not a child, he is a goddamn angel who does what he pleases. He comes and goes whenever."  
They don't talk about it anymore and Sam passes into a pleasant sleep. When he wakes up they are parked outside a diner. He can see Dean at the counter through the window, paying with one of their forged credit cards, a big greasy brown bag on the counter next to him. They eat in the parking lot before turning back on to the highway.  
Cas navigates his way carefully, trying not to draw too much attention to his intended destination. The gardener greets him warmly with an extended hand.  
"I thought I might see you here. But I don't have any idea where he is, if he still is at all."  
"I have questions. I was hoping you might have answers."  
"You want to know how it will end. That is not something a simple gardener knows." He snips a rose from a bush and hands it to Castiel.  
"Actually, I want to know about how it began. I have spent eternity watching earth, its growth, its animals, changes, and finally humans. I want to know what choices I have. What will happen to me if.."  
"If you choose to leave?" The gardener motions for the angel to sit on a stone bench that appears before them. "Let me tell you a story."  
You may have heard it before, but it never held any meaning for you before and you have chosen to forget. Lucifer was not the only angel to break ranks, there are others. Those Fallen who chose a human life. Wives and children followed.  
The pain of cutting themselves away from the Host was almost too much to bear at first, but in the end they were content to live out a human lifespan. Angels are strong enough to survive without their Grace, but they forget everything of their heavenly past and when their time of passing from the world comes, they are kept from heaven's gates, for they do not truly have a human soul. But, one who fell, he defied them all. Habioro, most powerful of the Fallen, placed a piece of his Grace in his lover, and attached her soul to his own. Each of his children then lived a blessed life, and Habioro's life became one in which he felt no loss from his beloved angelic brothers, a life in which he remembered. Our father was angry that such deception was possible, but in the end he understood that sometimes love is more powerful than even him and when Habioro's human life came to an end, he was welcomed home to live eternally in the souls of his descendants.  
"So, there is hope?" Castiel asks.  
"There is always hope for those with faith." The gardener smiles and touches the angel on the shoulder.

The boys settle in at Bobby's. Sam wins at Rock, Paper, Scissors, and heads up to the spare room while Dean makes up the couch. He takes a final pull of his beer and collapses before reaching over to turn off the lamp. The familiar rustle that signals the angel's approach makes him tense up and reach back to turn the light on with a heavy sigh. Cas is standing there, waiting for Dean to acknowledge him.  
"What's up, Cas?" Dean asks wearily.  
"I understand now why you are so unhappy… about my actions."  
"No, I don't think you do. Can we just drop it?" The hunter stands and places his hands on his hips. "I have been on the road all day and I would really like to get some sleep, if that is ok with you." He motions to the make-shift bed.  
Castiel, feeling a wave of anger barrels into Dean, knocking him against the wall, holding him there with hands wrapped in the hunter's shirt collar. Once again he presses his lips to Dean's, only this time, forcefully And this time Dean responds. If only for a split second of time, he doesn't fight it. The angel weakens his grip.  
Dean, now free from the mighty strength of the holy warrior, pushes as hard as he can to detach himself from the advances of Cas's lips. The angel is flung back as the man's fist connects with his jaw. If he is surprised by Dean's reaction, he doesn't let it register on his face.  
"Damnit Cas! I think I busted my hand on your stupid face!" Dean is shouting now as the thunder of footsteps on the stairs gets closer.  
Bobby's already got a knife in his hand. Sam is right behind him, but drops his shotgun to his side when he realizes that in this situation it won't do him any good.  
"What the hell is all the yelling about?" Bobby shouts. "You idjits got any idea how hard it is for an old man like me to run that damn fast?"  
Sam pulls on Bobby's elbow, "its ok, Bobby, they are just dealing with some personal stuff, nothing we can do about it."  
"What the hell does that mean?" Bobby scowls when he realizes no one is going to volunteer any more information. "Don't break nothin'," he mutters.  
Dean rubs his hand and waits for his audience to leave, glaring at his little brother the whole time. When they are alone again he lowers his voice. A touch of concern in it.  
"Cas, what is going on? I mean, I'm not… you know…" His expression is the same one he uses when he overstates the obvious.  
"Dean, you are forgetting, I have held your soul in my hands, raised you from perdition, I know who you are. If I were inhabiting a female vessel would this be a problem for you?" The angel tilts his head in that way he does when he is making a point.  
"Is that an option?" Dean asks, and then flushes before sweeping the idea away and lowering himself to the couch, hiding his face in his hands.  
"No. When I regained this vessel, Jimmy was close to death and I allowed his soul to pass through me and into the waiting arms of the reaper. If I leave this vessel I may never find another, and this empty shell would decay without my presence. Would you ask that of me?" He takes a cautious step toward the hunter.  
"I am kind of used to you, like this. It would be weird if you weren't, you, you know?"  
Another step.  
"I will always be me, Dean."  
Castiel lays a heavy hand on the hunter's shoulder before he flies off again.  
"Cas?" Dean looks up when he feels the contact break.  
After hours of contemplating the angel's words Dean finally drifts into the delicious oblivion of sleep. The dream is not the same as the last time, but there is pie, and his angel. There is comfort in the arms of his friend, and passion in the kisses they share. When he wakes, the experience is still fresh in his mind.  
The moment he realizes what has happened he springs from his bed and storms to the door.  
"Dean?" Sam and Bobby speak in unison, but he waves them off and heads for the yard. They know better than to follow so they resume eating their breakfast and drinking their coffees.  
Here he is, leaning against the Impala, just like the first time Cas kissed him. Dean throws his hands up and yells to the sky.  
"Castiel! Cas, get your feathered ass down here! Now!"  
The angel is present already. Making himself visible again he can't help but hide the discord in his voice.  
"Yes?" He asks gruffly.  
"You get outta my head! All you dicks up there think you can just screw with me? I mean, come on, Cas. You touch me on the shoulder and all of a sudden I'm a friend of Dorothy's? Not gonna happen!" His face is red with indignation.  
"I don't understand that reference, but I assure you I have done nothing."  
"Right, so I just happen to dream about you and me… to- together," the hunter clenches his teeth. "and you know nothing about it? Maybe you have one of your angel buddies zap me and now I'm queer?"  
"I am an angel of the lord, Dean, you think I have nothing better to do than implant myself in your dreams?" Anger is rising in him. Sometimes Dean can be such a child.  
"Well, something happened to me!"  
It is Castiel's turn to throw punches. Dean's nose breaks on contact. As he wipes the blood away he realizes he is alone again.  
Sam straightens his nose and Bobby throws him a rag to staunch the bleeding.  
"What the hell is going on with you two?" The old hunter barks.  
"I am telling you, something is wrong with him, or with me. Someone is messing with us. Cas is acting strange and someone is messing with my head."  
"You thinking witches? Never heard of a witch powerful enough to take on an angel. Could there be another archangel out there? A trickster, maybe?" Bobby hurries into the study and starts pulling books, piling them on his desk.  
Sam pulls his brother aside, hoping to spare him the humiliation of Bobby overhearing them.  
"Dean, this isn't a case."  
"They got in my head, Sammy, the hell it isn't."  
"Dean, did it ever occur to you this is just a part of you?" Sam places his hand on his brother's arm.  
"Oh, not you too? I am not, queer." Dean grits his teeth and lowers his voice to a hiss.  
"I'm not saying you are, there is just something about Cas."  
Dean guns the engine and rips out of the yard, he doesn't have to listen to that shit. Turning up the music and turning off his phone, he heads to the closest dive. He sets himself on the nearest stool at the bar, not even caring that it is only ten minutes after noon.  
By shift change at 4 pm Dean is waiting for the redheaded waitress in the parking lot, still a bit buzzed. She offers to drive, her car is parked out back. The girl navigates them easily to her place and has Dean free from his shirt in no time at all.  
"I never do this," she confesses. "I guess I just have a weak spot for mysterious, brooding guys."  
Dean knows he should stop right there, just on the principle that this girl is way out of her depth, and he's not entirely comfortable with the Twilight poster above her bed either. But he tries to stop himself from thinking like that. He is a man, she is a woman, and she wants him.  
He can tell she is conflicted, but she doesn't give in to her better judgement to not sleep with a complete stranger. Pushing him onto the bed, she climbs on top and removes her shirt. A lacy pink bra to match the pink panties she has on. Dean has a momentary flash of himself wearing panties similar to those. His mojo is all messed up. Things like this do not happen to Dean Winchester: gifted lover, pleaser of womankind.  
Shaking himself of the thought he dives back in, unhooking the clasp and freeing the girl from her remaining undergarments. Her warm flesh presses against his scarred chest, but it is having no effect. Get your head in the game, man. The girl reaches over him, opening the drawer in the small nightstand next to the bed. Her hand moves between them and he knows he is just going through the motions. There is no real arousal here, no matter how much he wants there to be.  
"If you are not into this…" she says.  
"No, I mean, you are really hot, I just... don't want to take advantage of you. I can't help but feel like this isn't right somehow."  
Dean squirms a little bit, trying to paint things a certain way, in hopes of sparing her feelings. And convincing himself this is all just his conscience talking.  
"I didn't peg you for the old fashioned type."  
He shrugs, "Up until now, neither did I."  
Ten awkward minutes later Dean is on the sidewalk outside her apartment building heading back in the direction of his Baby. He switches on his phone to find 5 missed calls and 4 texts. Scrolling through them, the procession goes from worry, to go fuck yourself to, acceptance.  
Sam knows it is best to let Dean cool down a little bit when he is this worked up. And because Sam doesn't believe there to be any supernatural force at work here, he lets it slide. Bobby's attitude is a little more of the go fuck yourself variety, Dean discovers when he walks through the door.  
"Boy, you mind explaining to me why you pile this shit storm on me and then fly out the door with no explanation? If Sam hadn't told me to let you be I'd a dragged you back here and tied you to a chair."  
The old man growls, throwing some holy water in his face, as he finally walks through the door. Grabbing hold of Dean's arm and pressing the silver blade into the younger man's flesh until the red blood pools at the surface and he is satisfied.  
"Now that that is out of the way," Bobby releases him.  
Dean wipes the moisture from his face, and grabs the nearest dish towel, holding it over the crimson line on his skin. Surviving one humiliation today was more than enough.  
"I don't have to explain anything, you don't want to help? Fine. I can take care of myself, always have."  
"Sit down, you little pick, and tell me what in the hell is going on around here. Near as I can tell there is something nasty in you, boy and I am going to suss it out no matter what, so you may as well start talking." Bobby's jaw clenches as the heat rises to his face; he pushes Dean into the nearest chair.  
Dean is seething now, rising from his seat and storming over to Bobby. He opens his mouth to shout the first insult he can think of-  
"Cas kissed him!" Sam yells, and both sets of angry eyes turn his way.  
Bobby looks bewildered, and Dean is mentally murdering him, but Sam knows he did the right thing. The three of them stand there in that strange tableau for over a minute, each of them trying to form another sentence.  
"Humph, well… I can see where Dean is coming from, that would put me ill at ease, but he is kind of a strange duck, Cas. I'm gonna have to go with Sam on this one, I don't see anything powerful enough to make that angel do anything he doesn't want to."

"They messed with my head, they put things in there! There has got to be something powerful enough to do that."  
Sam places a tender hand on his brother's arm, "There is, it's love."  
"Oh please, we are not having a click flick moment here," Dean swats the hand away, "you're saying cupid or whatever is in on this? Cause I would rather not have to summon him."  
"No, Dean. I'm saying, you love Cas and he loves you. There is no mystical force behind any of it."  
"Just leave me alone, Sam," Dean mutters. "Baby is due for an oil change, I'll be out in the garage. When I get back I'll crack this case myself."

Grime under his fingernails, a beer at his side, and tools in his hands gives Dean the peace he seeks. He goes more than 5 minutes at a time without thinking of the angel.  
Sam's words register, there is no denying his love for Cas, but it is not any more, or any different from the way Sam feels about the angel himself. Besides, how could Cas possibly understand something like that? The guy isn't even the same species as them. Maybe he is just confused, but what about the dream? Someone had to be behind that. No chance in hell Dean actually wanted to do those things with other guys. Never, not once has he thought that way before. At least not that he remembers. And he is pretty sure he would remember something like that.  
Making the decision is easy, acting on it is harder. He wipes his hands before popping the trunk to free the small jar he keeps for emergencies and pours a wide circle on the ground on the other side of the garage. The hunter paces for a while before giving in and whispering his prayer, as though saying it quieter will make it less of a betrayal.  
"Castiel, come on down."  
The rustle precedes the angel. His demeanor is calm. He takes three steps closer as Dean lights up to set the oil to flame around him.  
"I'm sorry, Cas, but I need answers and this seems the safest way to get them."  
"I'm sorry too, Dean. That you feel you can't trust me."  
"Cas, it's not about trusting you, I just need you to keep your distance while we sort this out. Your personal space issues have not improved."  
The attempted lightheartedness of the quip does not meet its target, as Castiel is still looking sullen.  
"Dean, I told you, I did not enter your dreams. As far as I have been able to tell, no one else has either. I know what you wish to see, but the simple fact is, you are not under a spell. If you wish to end our association, just let me free and I will return to heaven, you will never need to lay eyes on me again."  
Castiel is a poor liar, so he looks away as he speaks. It is true Dean would never see him again, if that was his wish, but the angel would always be watching.  
The hot tears well in his eyes, that itch in his throat swells and his nose tingles, but Dean holds back and chokes down his feelings, like he always has.  
"Cas, I don't want you to go, you are like family to me."  
"I see."  
There is hurt on the beautiful face of his angel, and Dean breaks down at last. The tears spill as he angrily wipes them from his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose willing it to stop.  
"If I didn't have to feel this, if I didn't have to feel anything, It would be better than having you look at me like that. I don't know what you want from me, Cas. Just tell me why."  
"You are the reason I rebelled, the reason I died, the reason I do everything. Living with you on this earth, without knowing if you may someday find yourself in the grip of a demon, in a bargain for your soul because I am not there, it is no longer living for me. There is a bond between us that I cannot fathom, that I cannot break, and I fear it is breaking me. My home is not home to me any longer, my brothers no longer bring me comfort, I am an angel of the lord in name only."  
Castiel's eyes search for understanding as the flames splash hues of yellow across his face.  
"Cas, you, and Sam, and Bobby; you are my home. I know sometimes we take you for granted, sometimes we forget how new you are to this, but I can't be everything to anyone. We all know what happens to the people I love. What would you do? Stay here with us, forever? With me? You will lose all your juice and one day something will get you and I will have to burn your bones. Do you think I could live with that?"  
"I think you underestimate me."  
Dean tosses the sand that smothers the flames between them and Castiel puts out the rest.  
Dean is alone once more in the dimly lit garage. He hurries himself through the dark lot and back into the house in search of food. This is the first time he has been able to imagine eating since Sam outted him to Bobby. Not that he is gay, or anything.  
The two hunters are seated across the table from each other eating sandwiches and pretending like they weren't talking about him when Dean walks in. No one speaks until everyone has had their fill.  
"You can have the spare room tonight, I'll take the couch."  
Dean knows this is his brother's way of saying sorry without making him uncomfortable, so he nods in appreciation. Ready to turn in for the night, mostly to get away from the looks Bobby is giving him and the questions he knows they are mentally asking, Dean rises and gives the standard salute/wave that has always meant "goodnight."  
Once Sam is sure Dean is gone up he heads out to the garage. The black ring on the cement confirms his suspicions about the scent of holy oil he thought he picked up from his brother's clothes.  
"Cas, Castiel, sorry to keep bothering you, bringing this up and all, but do you think I could have a moment?"  
The prayer goes unanswered for more than 2 minutes.  
"Castiel, I swear I am not going to trap you, I just want to know what happened between you and Dean."  
"Maybe you should ask your brother." The gravelly voice answers.  
"I probably should, but he isn't about to tell me anything. Look, it's none of my business, but he said they got in his head, that they were in his dreams, and I am certain he believes that. But I don't. He loves you, Cas, and as weird as it is for me to say it- hell- for me to think it, I know he will come around. The only question is, what are you going to do when he does? Do you really think you would be ok, I mean, not being an angel? You are family to me, and I don't want to see you make the wrong choice."  
"I understand your concerns, Sam."

Dean is finishing up his cherry pie again, ready to bask in the sunlight of a warm, quiet day, the shadow falls over him and Castiel is there. He smiles up at the figure in the trench coat. The angel squats down to eye level as the hunter pushes himself up to sit. They share a moment studying one another before Dean wraps the backwards tie around his hand and pulls the angel's mouth to his own.  
Only this time the kiss is different. There is a moment of hesitation from Cas before he gives in. The shared urgency is missing. Dean loosens his grip and pulls back to examine the face before him.  
"Cas?" he asks.  
"Yes, Dean?"  
"Is this a dream?"  
"Yes, Dean."  
"Are you in it, or did I dream it?"  
"I am present."  
"Of course you are."  
His face flushes red and he makes the distance between them greater as he stands up.  
"This dream is much more interesting than my previous adventures into your subconscious."  
"Yeah," Dean rubs the back of his neck as he looks up to the sky, willing himself to wake up. "I guess you shook me up a bit. So, if you're here something must be up. Why don't you tell me what the hell it is so I can wake up and we can go hunt this thing?"  
"I'm sorry, Dean, but I just came here to say goodbye, only now I am not sure it is possible."  
"Goodbye?"  
"I have become too close to you, Dean. My brothers have seen fit to have me reassigned. My proximity to humans has made me weak in their eyes. And knowing you will never accept me in this vessel, I have few choices if I don't wish to become a burden to you as a human you will feel obligated to protect; I have agreed. I can no longer serve the Host as I once did, so I will be cleansed, and removed from contact with humans for a millennia, if after that time has passed I am found fit, I may be able to return to earth and serve as a watcher. Only now, seeing you, I am conflicted about my decision."  
"Uh, you think?"  
Dean doesn't like to express many emotions, apart from anger, he is really good at that one. Cas had seen that from the beginning. Everyone Dean met understood when Dean was angry, it was the other thing that so few of them could see- his love. His fierce love that fuelled his bravery, and pushed away his weariness. Dean was not a man without faith anymore, not a man broken; he was fighting and he always would. That is why Castiel would never leave him, which is why he would rip himself apart just to spend one second with Dean loving him that way.  
Dean was still looking at him with a smart ass expression.  
"Oh, just wake me up already!" He shouts.  
As Cas's finger meets his brow he sits up to find himself in Bobby's spare room, the angel sitting with his back to him on the edge of the bed.  
"Dean, I know what you will say, but I have given it a lot of thought, I have looked at it in every possible way and after what just happened I don't see how…"  
The hunter's arms are suddenly around his shoulders, pulling him back towards the head of the bed. He turns his head to look behind him as Dean's lips overtake his own. Breaking the kiss, he knows now how to finish that sentence.  
"…I can possibly leave you now."


End file.
